Who Stole the Cookies from the Cookie Jar?
by Have Socks. Will Travel
Summary: Everyone at Hyotei is in a bad mood. And after talking to Shishido, Ohtori has taken it upon himself to figure out the mystery. With the help of Atobe, the two just may figure out who did steal the cookies from the cookie jar.


Prompt 37: use the following words in a story: hypocrite, cookie jar, city, telephone

**Prompt 37: use the following words in a story: hypocrite, cookie jar, city, telephone**

**Yeah, I have a whole bunch of prompts that I want to finish, so there will be about a million little stories popping up if I think they are good enough to show up. Or if it is just random, I'll post it anyway. I am just rambling and not making any sense, so I'll start.**

**Oo0oO**

Ore-sama was not pleased with the way that his tennis practice was going. Things were supposed to go smoothly around Ore-sama. Such was the way of the world. But with most of his regulars refusing to talk to each other, it was time for a bit of Atobe-intervention.

Ohtori alone kept up his cheerful aptitude. He had had a good day at school, his teachers had been kind and given them virtually no homework, and the snacks that were regularly set out in the boy's tennis changing room were unusually scrumptious. He seemed not to notice the discontent between the other regulars and paid heed only to—

"Shishido-san?" He asked timidly, walking up to his friend, bouncing a yellow tennis ball in his hand.

"Nnnng." Shishido grunted in recognition. Ohtori shrunk back a bit at being addressed thus and stuttered

"O-oh! If you don't want to talk right now I can just leave! Sorry!"

Ohtori turned to leave but was stopped buy yet another grunt from Shishido.

"Nnng. It's okay. Sorry for being all grouchy at you." Shishido grumbled under his breath. Ohtori's continence brightened when he heard.

"Thanks!" Ohtori gushed, sitting down next to Shishido. "So, what's got your goat?"

"Huh?" Shishido questioned. "Goat? I don't have a goat."

Ohtori sighed

"What's wrong?" Ohtori put it bluntly.

"Oh," Shishido looked down at the team practicing.

They were far up in the bleachers that surrounded the large and spacious Hyotei tennis courts. People hit balls back and forth with vigor, missing them every once and a while. Such misses were often accompanied by much embarrassed head scratching and scuffling to get the ball. Everyone wanted to appear mind-boggling in the presence of their flamboyant Capitan, so such mistakes were greatly made fun of.

"Yes…!" Ohtori prompted.

"Ask Gakuto." Shishido said darkly. This was the cue for Ohtori to leave, which he did presently. No one wanted the wrath of Shishido-san on them. It is much worse than Atobe-wrath, and Atobe has the power of insight. And this insight knows how much people hate to run laps.

**Oo0oO**

Atobe had slouched around the campus, very put out that he had to do such dirty work by himself. Usually he sent the only person that he trusted to do the job. But since the person he was searching for was said person, sending him to find himself would be moot point. And it seemed that finding Oshitari was a difficult thing to do indeed.

His searching for the glasses-clad boy led him to the tree that Jirou usually slept under. The vain captain began to tiptoe past the lethargic boy as to not wake him up. But as he approached the wide expanse of shade that the tree offered, he realized that such precautions were unnecessary. Jirou was squatting under the tree, his back pressed up against the bark to keep him steady.

"Jirou," Atobe said as he walked up. "I'm looking for Oshitari. Have you seen him?"

"No."

"Oh. Well, I was looking for him."

"Well then don't sleep on the job. Go find him."

"_Hypocrite." _Atobe thought, but then remember that, for once, Jirou wasn't asleep. He also noticed another strange thing about Jirou.

A dark scowl covered his usually smiling face, which both concerned Atobe and made his mood grow fouler by the second. If Jirou was _frowning _and more over _**awake **_there had to be something wrong. And Atobe didn't really want to find out.

But since it was his job as captain of his team and he didn't have Oshitari with him, he walked over to Jirou, and in a very pliant voice asked, "What's wrong Jirou?

Jirou scowled and looked away from his captain, which made Atobe even more frustrated.

"Tell me." He warned.

"Please." Jirou sniffed at Atobe.

Atobe rolled his eyes and tacked on the "Please."

Jirou flopped over in the grass and started ripping the tops off of it.

"Ask Gakuto."

**Oo0oO**

"Hiyoshi-san!" Ohtori called out to the boy who was hitting a ball against the school wall.

Without stopping, the boy turned to Ohtori and scowled. Not that such a face was unusual for him. Ohtori ran up to him and waved. He got a scowl in return. Undeterred, he continued on with what he had come to say.

"Hiyoshi-san, do you know where Mukahi-san is? Or perhaps Buchou?"

"Gakuto? Atobe? I don't keep tabs on them. Find them yourself." Hiyoshi growled. He hit the tennis ball with unnatural harshness, causing it to flatten into the wall before it came back somewhat deflated that usual.

Ohtori watched the exchange with a mixture of surprise and concern. Who would take their anger out on a tennis ball?

"Are you okay?" He asked, anxious for the stone faced boy's sake.

"Fine." Hiyoshi answered, a little too firmly and with to much ball whacking.

"Are you sure? Is something bothering you?"

"Ask Gakuto." Hiyoshi smashed the ball into the wall, signifying that any other words spoken would be considered null and void.

"Ah." Ohtori said as he backed away. "Well, thank you anyway."

**Oo0oO**

"Ni! Kabaji!" Atobe cried out to the tall youth's retreating back. Kabaji turned around. His face was its usual face, dull, but watchful. Atobe ran to catch up, feeling humiliated as he did so. He, the captain of such a well known and highly revered team should not have to run up to another team member. They should all run up to him and bow down to him (not that a few of the more stubborn ones would ever,) but that was how it was supposed to work. Still, Atobe needed to get to Kabaji, and running was the fastest way to do so. Plus it would be rude to tell Kabaji: "Kabaji! Run over here, because I don't want to run over to you. Plus, if I, the captain, am seen running, people (coughShishidocough) might get ideas and not pay attention to my every beck and call. So you should run over here, which is out of your way, but that's okay, because I don't want to run. And if you run over here, I won't have to run over there. So it works out for me!"

When Atobe had finished his humiliating run of shame over to Kabaji, hopeful that no one had seen him commit such a grievous act, he began talking to Kabaji, keeping his head down. There was something stuck to the bottom of his shoe, which was not pleasing either. Spotting a rock on the sidewalk, he scrapped what looked like sour apple gum off the bottom of his tennis shoe. That completed, he looked up and was shocked. Although Kabaji's face had looked perfectly normal from far, far away, up close it looked troubled and unhappy. This being the sixth travesty of the day, Atobe's mood sunk further and further into the red zone. He just wanted to go home and… order someone around. Perhaps ordering someone to fill his tub and he could have a nice soak in the hot tub would do it. Yes that would do it.

But until this horrible tennis practice was over, he had to hold onto his calm, nonchalant, captain persona. Clearing his face and plastering it with a false and cheesy grin that reminded him of a smile that a superhero would wear on the covers of comics. Very suave. He already had the super powers. All he needed were the tights, although Ore-sama would never wear tights.

"What is wrong, Kabaji." He asked, gritting his teeth.

"Nothing." Kabaji grunted.

"Please Kabaji. I know that something is wrong. Tell me!?" He squeaked, and then covered his mouth. Ore-sama never squeaked.

"Nothing." Kabaji grunted again.

"Oh please! First Jirou, now you! Is the whole city in some bad mood or something? What was that?" Atobe asked. Kabaji had mumbled something while Atobe had been exclaiming very loudly that he knew something was wrong with Kabaji.

"Gakuto."

"What about Gakuto?"

"Ask."

"Yes…?"

"Gakuto."

"Ask Gakuto?"

"Usu."

**Oo0oO**

Ohtori wandered aimlessly around the campus. He suspected that Gukato would be with Oshitari, who would more than likely be with their charismatic captain. So if he was able to find Atobe, then he would find Gakuto; then, he'd be able to find out what was bothering Shishido. And what ever bothered Shishido, bothered Ohtori.

As his stomach rumbled he breathed heavily. It was good that there had been treats in the clubhouse, or else he couldn't imagine what kind of state his stomach would be in at the moment.

He spotted a glimmer of silver at the top of the stairs ahead of him. It could only be one person. The disconcerting thing though, was that Kabaji was walking _away _from the sparkle that was sure to be Atobe. Rushing past the only person on the team who was taller than him, Ohtori put his long legs to work and mounted the steps three at a time.

When he reached the top of his climb, he caught Atobe throwing a rock, but never anything of it.

"Atobe-buchou?" He called tentatively.

Atobe spun around, startled, although he did a good job of covering it up.

"Oh." Atobe intoned when he saw that it was Ohtori. "Greetings."

"Um, right." Ohtori blinked, not used to being addressed by the captain, and much less greeted with "Greetings." He let it slide though and continued his trek over to his shorter captain. Though Atobe would never admit it, he was slightly self conscious of Ohtori's height. Yes, this was strange, but if you looked at it from Atobe's narcissistic point of view, it all made sense.

Atobe had come to grips with Kabaji being taller than him and had actually grown to like it. It made him feel even more important than he already was with a tall, body-guard-like person following him around, always silent, but always there.

But the something about Ohtori's height was perplexing. It did not follow him around, making him look like the top dog. No, this height, which was impressive, made Atobe look _little, _which was not pleasing to Ore-sama. This height did not bow and scrape to his every whim like the other, more pleasing height did. It did not answer yes to every little question that was thrown its way. It was just respectful, which made Atobe unable to hate it, which made Ore-sama very angry.

"Have you seen Oishitari?" Atobe asked, looking Ohtori right in the eye.

Ohtori squirmed under Atobe's gaze and looked down, breaking the eye contact. This made Atobe smile, until he realized that when Ohtori looked down, breaking under Atobe's magnificence, he was still looking down on Atobe, in the literal sense of the word.

"N-no!" Ohtori stuttered, surprised. "I was actually looking for him myself."

"Ah," Atobe intoned then sighed. "I guess we could look for them together."

Ohtori perked up and his eyes brightened when he heard this joyous proclamation.

"That would be wonderful! How should we start! This is kind of like a mystery."

"Yes," Atobe agree, distracted. He was thinking of a way to find Oshitari in the lease painful way possible.

"You could call him." Ohtori suggested, staring up into the sky as he thought. "Or if that doesn't"—

"That's it! I can call him!" Atobe snapped his fingers. Out of habit, Ohtori quit taking.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his purple flip phone. He flipped it open with one hand, feeling very sophisticated as he did so. He had practiced long and hard to be able to do so. He pressed the number two button and pressed the glowing green send button. He had Oshitari on speed dial, for emergency situations.

"That's a nice telephone." Ohtori nodded toward the shiny phone

"Cell phone." Atobe corrected.

"Right." Ohtori nodded again.

"Ah. Oshitari." Atobe began when said person picked up. "No, everything is all right. Well, kind of. No. No. I don't know. Let me ask Ohtori."

Atobe held his hand over the mouth piece of the phone. "Have you seen Shishido lately?"

"Um. Ohtori began. "I have. And he was grouchy."

"Him too eh?" Atobe asked as he uncovered the mouth piece and began talking again. "No, Ohtori's seen him. And he said he's in a bad mood. Everyone that I've ran into is in a foul mood? Do you know anything about this?"

There was a pause as Atobe listened to what Oshitari had to say. Ohtori picked up a stick and began scraping it on the sidewalk.

"Okay. Right. I'll be down there in a second. Uh huh. Bye."

Atobe flipped the phone shut and stared at Ohtori for a few seconds. "What are you doing? Drop the stick; let's go!"

Atobe marched off and Ohtori followed leaving the stick behind them.

**Oo0oO**

They reached the club house, the taller and more humble boy a few paces behind the shorter. Ohtori pulled the door open while Atobe waited then followed Atobe's gleaming hair into the dark club house. The marched down the shadowy, and well furnished hall and into a small changing room.

There was Gukato, squatting in a corner, a cookie jar hugged to his body.

_Wait. _Ohtori thought. _A cookie jar? Oh…! _

"What is wrong here?" Atobe asked, a tired sounding quality peaking up in his tone. Hyotei was full of characters. Characters that didn't ever get along.

"Someone ate all my cookies!" Gukato cried, tear leaking out of the corner of his eye.

Atobe blinked at Gukato and scrunched his eyebrows together.

"So?" Atobe asked, scrutinizing the situation to see exactly what was wrong.

"Some one needs a nap." Ohsitari stage whispered from behind his hand.

"Shut up!" Gukato called. "I didn't eat them, so one of you did! Only team members are allowed in this dressing room! So someone ate them!"

"Hold on a bit." Atobe held out his hand in the universal sign for 'stop, Ore-sama needs to think.' "You mean that you made everyone on the entire team cranky because you said that they ate _your _cookies?"

Gukato sniffed and nodded.

"Don't you think that's a little selfish?" Atobe asked.

"I learned from the best."

Atobe wasn't sure he wanted to know what that comment meant, or who it was directed at.

"Hold on a second." Ohtori piped up. "Were these cookies on the chair near the entrence to the clubhouse?"

Gukato nodded.

Ohtori's heart sunk.

"I think I ate them."

_Crud. _Ohtori thought. _I stole the cookies from the cookie jar. And I caused all of Shishido's problems._

"RAWR!!" Gukato launched his tiny body from the corner, and landed on Ohtori's shoulders.

"I guess it's just that time of month." Oshitari said as he breezed out of the room. "I'll leave this to you, Atobe."

Ohtori was struggling with Gukato on his head. Gukato was roaring.

Atobe snapped, which was also the universal sign for 'stop. Ore-sama is thinking.' Nothing happened. He snapped again. Same affect.

_Snap_

"Ow! You're pulling my hair out! Please stop!"

_Snap. _Atobe was getting fed up with all this.

"Never! You ate all my cookies!'

_Snap. _A blood vein in Atobe's face nearly popped.

"I'm sorry!"

_Snap. _Ore-sama was angry. You wouldn't like ore-sama when he's angry.

"I will never forgive you."

"SHUT UP!" Atobe yelled. And it worked. The two looked at him, Ohtori had tears rolling down his face and Gukato had a scowl written all over his face.

"Gukato, fourty-five laps for… pulling out Ohtori's hair." Even as Atobe said it, he realized just how lame it sounded.

"And Ohtori. Go… go… Go make Gukato some cookies."

**Oo0oO**

**Okay… That was strange… Forgive me if I ****butchered** **your favorite character. And also, my spell check turned off right near the end there… hopefully it isn't **_**too **_**terrible. **

**Anyway! Review!**


End file.
